Power, who holds it, how it is exercised, and its other various dynamics are impacted by modernization, as was shown by The Grocer and the Chief. It seemed to me that modernization itself, back when the Grocer was first interviewed, was en route to undermine the power of the Chief. Now, the Chief’s power was rooted seemingly only in the traditional. If you ignore the quite literal power transfer that occurred as the Ankara government annexed the town, the act of slowly modernizing, the course the village was on before said annexation, itself would have achieved a similar (quite smaller, as it would not have been as quick or as clean of a power switch) effect of undermining the Chief (apologies for that ridiculous sentence as well). This is clear because modernizing inherently reduces the power of a traditional power figure.

There is also an interesting Havel-ian dynamic occurring here that I do not fully understand. The Grocer is not necessarily outright resisting the authority of the Chief like Havel’s grocer could, but he is certainly opposed in spirit and in practice to the Chief and traditional dynamics. Is he operating within the system, like Havel suggests, because he is embracing the forthcoming “system” of modernizing? Or is he outside of the “system”, which in this case is the traditional, by embracing the modern?

Daniel Lerner’s The Grocer and the Chief is a story of perception-shattering change for the Chief and the rest of the villagers, Turkey, and the third world as a whole. A notable element of this radical change is the change in the village’s perception of the Grocer. In Tosun’s original round of interviews, the villagers saw the Grocer as “disreputable” (50) and “even less than the least farmer” (48), due to the clash between his relatively modern ideals and the village’s traditional, poverty-hardened ideals. By the time Lerner actually made his way to Balgat, the original Grocer – now dead – was regarded by some locals who had been there for Balgat’s transformation as “the cleverest of {them} all” and even a “prophet” (56). This conveys the change in rural Turkish – and Middle Eastern, in a broader sense – ideals that occurs in this story. As we see in Tosun’s original portrayal of Balgat, traditional Middle Eastern culture has always said something like, “Work hard, be respectful, and if things aren’t great, tough it out without complaining.” Initially, the other villagers resented the Grocer because he seemed to consciously reject this traditional culture in favor of another. At the end of the piece, however, we see a more habitable Balgat that has, according to Lerner, traded up and embraced the Grocer’s Westernized ideals. Lerner portrays that, once a new, more indulgent, way of living was offered, the residents of Balgat took it without hesitation.

What does this say about the formation of culture? The Grocer and the Chief seems to suggest that poverty-stricken communities develop the aforementioned culture because their living conditions demand it. In short, Tosun’s Balgat was the way it was because it didn’t have a favorable alternative.

Another point of interest for me throughout Lerner’s account was the apparent imposition of his own definition of progress and modernization on the story of Balgat’s transformation. That he says the Grocer was always “[his] man” (54) affirms this, as it is surely no coincidence that he supported the man who shared his progressive ideals. Is this the reason Lerner has written about the benefits of Balgat’s modernization? Not necessarily, but by allowing his own cultural ideals to permeate into his writing, he loses much of his credibility as a cultural researcher in a foreign country. In his defense, it is very difficult – if not impossible – to write without preconceptions (such as his preconceived definition of progress) and at least Lerner is upfront about his biases and opinions. Still, having such a biased account makes me doubt that a researcher from a different culture would produce a similar paper. Certainly, a researcher from somewhere like Balgat would write something very different. For this reason, The Grocer and the Chief is only truly useful if supplemented with other works written from various perspectives.

In Lerner’s “The Grocer and the Chief”, Lerner’s conclusions are predicated on a number of assumptions about progress and change. Chief among these assumptions is the notion that there is only one true definition of progress: a Western-style industrialized, liberal state. Lerner further assumes that urbanization and technological development is necessarily good, painting the development of infrastructure in the village as to allow them to commute to work in the city as an unabated positive. To call this work Western-centric is nothing if not understatement.

As Lerner’s Western-centric biases serve as the basis for this ethnographic work, they render many of the conclusions drawn, if not the underlying work itself, distorted and thus unsound. Every aspect of his description of the village and his inhabitants point to the reductive notion of Western good, Eastern bad. This faulty logic certainly extends to the case of the two eponymous figures, the Chief and Grocer. Lerner dismisses the Chief and the traditional values he represents as being backwards and reactionary while holding the values of the Grocer as being Western and thus enlightened and good. No sound social scientific study, much less an ethnography can proceed from such flawed premises. Irrespective of one’s personal inclinations, to so openly push an ideological agenda while dismissing all else is to dismiss the very essence and lifeblood of ethnography, different cultures and practices.

Lerner is very upfront with his sympathies for the Grocer in his article. He mentions his feeling of sadness when he learned that the Grocer had died. We are made to believe that the Grocer is the prime example of modernity. For example, the author writes, “As one saw it now, the Grocer had shown the way…” While it is certainly true that the Grocer had values consistent with the future development of Turkey, it seems that Lerner primarily believed this because he saw the Grocer as a Western figure. Among other things, he continuously points out the Grocer’s idealization of the United States. Through the story of the Grocer, it feels that Lerner is arguing that the only way to modernize is to imitate the West. Perhaps the best example of this is when the Chief’s son opens his store. Lerner writes, “The Grocer’s words of aspiration came leaping back to mind…His dream house had been built in Balgat – in less time than even he might have forecast – and by none other than the Chief!” This struck me as a strange sentence. It seems that the Chief’s son had no real agency, he was simply following the example of the Grocer. This is not the only example. Every development in Balgat is traced back to the Grocer. In this way, Lerner westernized the development of Balgat by explaining it through the vision of the Grocer.

There are two issues that I take with Lerner’s interpretation of the intricacies of social life in Balgat. Firstly, speaking to his methodology, it was very clear that Lerner came into his observations with a bias—wanting to paint the grocer as his hero. He talks about one of the “wiser heads” speaking, “the words I was seeking” when the man calls the grocer, “the cleverest of us all” (Lerner, 56). This blatant admittance of preference casts doubts over the entire picture we have just watched Lerner pain for us. However, perhaps the underlying issue of his bias stems from his assumptions about the nature of progress. Lerner portrays the Grocer as a prophet, years ahead of his time, embracing the lifestyle of urban Ankara and attempting to incorporate elements of the more industrial society, like neckties and commercial goods, into the more traditional Balgat life. Lerner glorifies this way of life, asking, “What would happen next in Balgat if more people discovered the tingle of wondering what will happen next?” (Lerner, 51). It is clear that Lerner sees commercialism, public transportation, urban labor, and new technology as “progress” in society, and so he takes the Grocer, the only one in society brave enough to embrace these developments, as a revolutionary and a hero.

However, this progress came at a great cost, namely conformity to Ankara to the point where Balgat is scheduled to be swallowed up into the greater Ankara region. This will undoubtedly mark a great loss of tradition and identity for the Balgati people as they are now being forced to embrace everything that urbanization brings with it. Perhaps, then, this is not so much progress, but conformity. Perhaps this loss of tradition is more detrimental than the positive effects of embracing Ankara. Perhaps Lerner’s assumptions about change and progress being admirable are misguided, and blind him to the societal harms that might be inflicted on the Balgati with such rapid and compulsory change.

In Lerner’s “The Grocer and the Chief,” it is clear through his description of Balgat’s transcendence into modernity that he adheres to a common perception of progress, as he writes about the both the literal and societal improvements that have come to Balgat over the past four years. Tangible improvements like a main road, electricity, and a new water pipe (51) compliment the villagers’ increasing awareness and involvement in a greater society, as Lerner writes, “the villagers were getting out of their holes at last” (51). In addition to the technological improvements from which the villagers of Balgat have benefitted, changes in beliefs had also become present. With the modernization, the Chief recalls how Democrats came and got elected to power: “times have been good with us here. We are all Democrat party in Balgat now” (52). This is a clear indication of Balgat’s progression into the modern world, as many of the villagers have departed from the sheltered views that they once lived by. As the Chief recalls on his time as Muhtar, he has his reservations and concerns but ultimately says, “I am the last Muhtar of Balgat, and I am happy that I have seen Balgat end its history in this way that we are going” (55). This shows the Chief’s increased awareness, as he recognizes that his role in Balgat’s journey in to social modernity is one of decreased authority. Overall, the town’s modernized atmosphere has brought remarkable and multidimensional change to what was once an isolated village, and in doing so has connected both it and its villagers to Greater Ankara and the world. Even though Balgat has become more aligned with both what Lerner would classify as progress and the lifestyle of the western world, the new opportunities and resources that have been given to the villagers of Balgat have given much more benefit than cause for concern.

Lerner’s argument in The Grocer and the Chief relies primarily on the focus of industrialization into the dominantly agricultural community of Balgat. Lerner’s idea of modernization relies on a western viewpoint of progress as the acquisition of bigger and better technologies and places. Where I disagree with Lerner is in his heroic tale of the Grocer when the Chief seems to take a backseat to the thoughts of the Grocer. It must be noted that the Grocer, while having these ideas of what modernization could be for the Balgati, was not there (as far as we know) for the actual modernization of Balgat. And his ideas of what modernity can be is flipped on its head following the election. The road to Ankara is built, but to transport factory workers away from their lives in Balgat for 8 hours a day. The farming community is essentially gone due to competition with the factory wages and the grocer’s are not using local products. The chief’s family seems to be the most central people to the community of Balgat, with him still functioning in the traditional sense as a chief and his sons owning shops in the town. This reading made me ponder if the modernization of Balgat did anything to really enrich the Balgati or if it simply provided excess and new “shiny things” to fill the problems of the Balgati rather than solve them?

I think it is clear that Lerner assumes progress is a universal path. He saw the new infrastructure and access to Ankara as undoubtedly positive, and he was encouraged to find that the Chief supported these changes. But I think that looking at progress like this is problematic. Lerner glossed over the destructive capabilities of modernization, only briefly mentioning the farmers’ frustration and the change of Balgat’s culture. The Chief spoke to this, explaining that the younger generation is significantly less invested in the town’s success. But even though I generally disagree with Lerner’s assumption of progress, I think that the changes that occurred in Balgat were ultimately beneficial.

By including Balgat as part of Greater Ankarra, the small town was given access to a chunk of Ankara’s resources. This gave the citizens access to the inner city by bus, drastically changing the job market. Farming and shepherding were no longer profitable for much for of Balgat, but I do not think that this should be portrayed as negative. Farming is intense, life-shortening work. Access to better paying factory jobs was a clear improvement for the community, giving the people more resources and more leisure time. And even though this was a transformation of Balgat culture, the majority of its people did not seem to mind it. Even the Chief, the “last Muhtar of Balgat,” was happy to see a change that benefitted his people.

In “The Grocer and the Chief,” Lerner certainly weaves into his report his own views regarding modernization, notably a favoritism towards the spreading of Westernized practices. For Lerner, progress seems to represent a sort of movement, but one in which American or Western values dominate. Indeed, he highlights two forms of mobility–physical and societal–that seem to be at the core of progress for Lerner. Upon the advent of bus transportation, Lerner describes, “the villagers were getting out of their holes at last,” (51). Though a paraphrase of the Grocer’s previous comment, this statement implies Lerner’s view of the villagers’ acquisition of freedom: a release from a former position of not simply immobility, but also ignorance (similar to Plato’s cave). This distinctly contrasts the Chief telling Tosun that he “‘wouldn’t move a foot from [Balgat],'” (49) and the shepherd (who eventually moved villages) would rather kill himself then leave Balgat. As such, Lerner approaches his analysis of modernization with a familiar approach that it greatly benefits the many, while potentially harming the few. The second form of mobility is societal, which the Grocer evokes initially upon responding to what he would do as Turkey’s president. The ease with which he offers his answer–to “make roads for the villagers to come to towns to see the world,” (49)–reveals his thoughtfulness. He had taken to formulate an answer to a question that might be more commonly asked in democratic republics, where representatives listen to citizens voices. Similarly, the movement of agricultural to factory jobs results in a desire to gain capital, that villagers could later spend on refrigerators, tractors, trucks, and radios–the last of which giving them power that formerly only the Chief held.

Lerner’s evaluation of Turkey’s societal changes accentuates his biases as he promotes Westernized values, like various forms of mobility. While obvious to readers accessing such judgments, the next question to ask regards the extent to which Lerner himself is aware of his partiality. Having grown up in a country that praises its own “achievements,” I simply wonder to what extent it is possible to prevent my own biases from leaking through too.

Lerner’s description of Balgat changing over time, as well as the conclusions he draws about the “positive” effects that modernity seems to have had on the village, suggests Lerner’s belief in a universal definition of progress. For Lerner, “progress” is inextricably tied to technological improvements, and a movement towards industrialization. When he returns to Balgat, he is excited by the emergence of public transportation, and more technical jobs, which have replaced farming. This replacement of farming, however, has noticeable consequences on villagers’ employment. Lerner does not explore the possibility that the majority of people in Balgat may have been content without these changes. However, he also offers evidence of many villagers’ willingness to accept change. The last Muhtar says that he is “happy” to have seen Balgat “end its history in this way that we are going” (55). The Muhtar, in addition to the Chief and his two sons, provide examples of people who seem to have accepted their position of passivity in a world changing around them. The Chief in particular expresses great resiliency in the face of modernization and hope for his posterity. Nonetheless, Lerner’s selection of these details, personal accounts, and reactions all point to an effort to paint modernization in a universally positive light. “Progress”, for Lerner, is a departure from manual labor, and lack of technology, and an embrace of technological “improvement.”